Touring has given me the strangest and most challenging experiences of my life (so far). From being flown down to LA for a weird, weird birthday party, to losing the only key to the van at the base of a mountain with no one around, I would never have had these experiences if it weren’t for the band.
It’s both a blessing and a curse that you’re forced share these experiences with bandmates. Sometimes, all you want is a little space. Sometimes, a little silence. Sadly, these things are in short supply when you’re on the road. On the other hand, sometimes you need someone to talk to about how weird everything is.
In our second year of being a touring band, we played 130+ shows and were on the road traveling for many more days. We’ve remained best friends and learned some valuable lessons about how to get along on the road.
People often ask if we ever get sick of each other. And honestly, we don’t. Here’s how:
1. Approach challenges with a sense of humor
Over the past few years, each of us has made some incredibly dumb mistakes. For example, as I mentioned above, I lost the only set of keys to the van while snowboarding on a mountain. Not only were we unable to go anywhere, but we couldn’t even get our gear in the van. Stuck at the base of a mountain with no one around. Not my best moment.
There are just too many of these situations to deal with when you’re in a band. If everyone got super stressed out and grumpy every time something ridiculous happened, we would be a very grumpy group of individuals. Thankfully, we all have a very healthy (sometimes too healthy) sense of humor. This has gotten us through countless stressful situations.
Sometimes, you just have to make a joke, find a hot tub, and let the situation work itself out.
2. Approach each other’s strengths and weaknesses with understanding
Everyone has a “thing.” That thing that’s super annoying. That they do all the time. I think mine is absentmindedness. I forget things… a lot. This is a weakness of mine, and something I’m working on. And while the other guys aren’t quite as bad, we’ve all forgotten things, big and small, at various points in our career.
No one gets upset or irritable when something is forgotten. It’s not productive, and it doesn’t help anyone. Instead, we figure it out. Together.
If you’re getting annoyed because a bandmate has done that “thing” again, remember that you also have a “thing.” Realize this, and try to approach the situation with a light, compassionate touch. The band’s relationship is far more important than the bass player’s smelly feet. (But seriously, dude, get some insoles or something.)
3. Sometimes, you don’t need to talk about stuff
There comes a point in our touring schedule (usually right about now, in fact) that we literally run out of things to talk about. We made a 16-hour trek to a festival in the Kootenays last weekend and barely talked the entire way.
It may sound strange, but if you’ve ever done a long tour, you’ll know what I’m talking about. Each band member has something they like to do in the van. I like to write these articles or drive. Dylan likes to play Grand Theft Auto (or similar) on his phone. Roman sleeps a lot (I’m jealous of this ability).
It can be nice to just leave each other alone and do those things. This generally keeps us all happy, and then when we don’t see each other for two or three days, we can talk for four hours straight!
4. Develop your own personal routines that give you space
Routines are important, and it’s hard to maintain even simple routines (e.g., brushing your teeth) while on tour. However, when I manage to get out and run every day or two, I am a much happier person. Similarly, a solo walk and phone call with the significant other, a morning bodyweight workout, a quiet work session, or whatever you prefer are super important for maintaining a healthy relationship.
Everyone needs to be alone sometimes. Respect that.
5. Brunch
I’m not talking “let’s go get mimosas and pay $25 for french toast” sorta brunch. I’m talking “let’s save money and eat breakfast and lunch at the same time” sorta brunch. But still. We find great satisfaction on eating a somewhat healthy breakfast/lunch, reflecting on last night’s gig, planning the day, and chatting.
We usually try to find the hippest (or cheapest) local breakfast spot with the best bottomless coffee. Then, we hit the road again.
6. Take the “highs” and hold on to them for dear life
Things are getting better now, but there were a lot more lows than highs when we were starting out. Now, our tours are a lot more fun.
However, we’re starting fresh in some brand new markets and experiencing some of those same lows, like poor attendance and terrible accommodations, all over again. The difference is, we know how to deal with that now.
Every musician knows that the good shows outweigh the bad ones. For us, that’s what keeps us touring. We love touring, and we love playing. We love when a gig goes “just so.” We also love seeing beautiful scenery, meeting beautiful people, and the wonderful hospitality of so many venues and fans.
Seriously, as weird and challenging as it can be, touring is the best job ever. A grateful attitude and an optimistic worldview will change the way you tour.
Do you have any tips for getting along on the road? I have another long drive coming up next week, so let me know in the comments if you have some advice!
Liam Duncan is a full-time musician from Winnipeg, Canada. He likes to record music with friends and tour with The Middle Coast.
Everyone who finds even a tiny bit of success in any field has no doubt worked their butt off to reach that point. Music is no different, and some might say it’s harder than most fields in terms of finding success, but just because you quote/unquote ‘make it’ in some way does not mean your life will get any easier. As people, change is part of our DNA. The same inexplicable power that caused one cell to become two, then three, and so on until people were formed lies in you now, and it thrives on change. We must change in order to grow, and we must grow in order to truly live. This post, written by our good friend Ian Baldwin, discusses the point in life where one must realize change is necessary.
This past week I made the decision to sell my drum kit. In the past year I have made playing drums less of a priority. I’ve been focusing on buildingmy business, learning photography, and spending time with my wife as well as friends and family.
We only have the capacity to do so much; make what is important to you a priority and don’t spread yourself too thin.
I decided to cut out drums to focus what matters to me most; connecting people and communities through design. Drumming was a huge part of my life up until about a year ago so I felt like I had to write something to close this chapter of my life.
A Brief History of My Fairly Local Music Career
Half way through high school I decided I wanted to grow up to be a full-time musician and travel the world. The idea of getting played to play music and travel was exciting to me and became my dream job. A dream job for many that only the most persistent and patient musicians get to live out.
Believe me I was willing to put in the work. I have been drumming for a little over a decade, played in almost a dozen bands and also did some touring as a merch guy and photographer to see if that was a lifestyle that I would even enjoy. Right out of high school I put off going to college to move 3 ½ hours away to Canton, Ohio to join a band. Looking back I loved every minute of it and wouldn’t change a thing. I learned a lot about myself and who I wanted to become.
If I wasn’t playing drums in a band it was fun to just support hard working artists and help them stayed connected with their fans. I had my fun and fair share of gigs that I will never forget. Some of my favorite bands to be apart were Hemisphere and States Away. We played shows with bands that went on to do great things like twenty one pilots, Wolves at the Gate, the Orphan the Poet, Come Wind and many more.
It was great to become friends with the people I did while being in bands and going to shows. Many of those friends don’t live as close as they used to or we have just grown apart because life gets busy. I do know that we will always be friends and can normally pick up right where we left off.
So What’s Next?
I started a business at the beginning of the year called Hear&See. The focus of Hear&See is to provide design services and marketing materials for bands and brands that are within the music industry.
I won’t truly ever quit music. I promised myself that I would work in the music industry full-time one day and this is me deciding to work towards that. I may not be in a band but I can support my friends who do play as well as other musicians by designing graphic for them to connect on a deeper level with their fans and grow their audience.
I am currently overlapping my day job at ACCO Brands as I am building my business the rest of this year so I can create a solid foundation before making the jump as a full-time entrepreneur. I am building up my clientele and refining my process the remainder of the year.
Maybe someday I’ll buy another drum kit but for now I am content with having my sticks and practice pad to play on at home and air drumming in the car to my favorite songs.
If you enjoyed reading this and want to talk about music, building a business from the ground up or want to hire me to work on a project you can email, reach out to me on Twitter or Snapchat.
The following post is the latest in an ongoing collaboration between Haulix and the fine folks at Muddy Paw PR.
It’s almost that time again. Time to fill Lancaster, PA with enthusiastic young minds, passionate musicians, and eager industry folk, all thrilled at the opportunity to hear some of the best and the brightest speak—with no idea that there’s also a powerful networking component that’s about to take place. Of course, I’m talking about this year’s Launch Music Conference, kicking off this Thursday-Sunday in Lancaster, PA. No, I don’t work for the festival—but I am a strong advocate for it and others like it—and I think you should be too.
I have a confession to make. Up until this time last year, I’d never been to an industry conference. For nearly six years I’d watched others flee to festivals like SXSW or NAMM, and I’d think “yeah that would be cool. But…” and it was never long before I could fill in the blank. Too expensive, too much time away, I don’t know anyone, etc. I chose to ignore for years what ended up being one of the best ways for me to network.
Now don’t get me wrong, I love larger conferences like SXSW. But it’s easy to love the majors—they’re filled with top-tier panelists, A-list musical talent, showcases galore, and everyone you know is bound to be there. It’s a breeding ground for inspiration and creativity—but so are the smaller conferences.
And let’s not forget that many of the major conferences are also expensive. Very, very, expensive. And It’s crowded. And it’s easy to get overwhelmed and to feel a little in over your head. The panelists, though you may catch them right after their set, are not always easily accessible, and while you might bump into the people you meet here and there, there’s no sense of intimacy, because you’re sharing a few blocks of Austin with hundreds of thousands of people. There’s not as much time to truly get to know those around you, because you’re already rushing off to the next panel or show. There’s a constant sense of urgency, and a need to go, go, go.
Not so with a smaller conference. The panelists, though accomplished and esteemed, are also approachable and oftentimes, more open to collaboration than some of the major players at a larger conference. In fact, there is a sense of community that is practically built in. Everything feels so tightly knit, from the location of participating venues, to the panelists roaming the room after they speak. You’re more likely to form bonds with the 100-200 people that show up each morning to delve into the panels with you, than you might when you’re constantly bumping into strangers amidst an enormous conference. In those few days, you become a part of something. You have a real shot at making friends and making connections, based off the simple fact that you are in such close proximity to the same small group of people for 3 days straight. That bonding and sense of common ground are what relationships are built on. So before you turn your nose up at the smaller conferences, remember that while there’s a ton of value in the SXSW’s of the world, as a growing artist, you should be partnering with other growing artists, entrepreneurs, and yes, even festivals to forge relationships and grow together. It’s going to make all the difference.
Angela Mastrogiacomo is the founder and CEO of Muddy Paw PR, a public relations firm specializing in personalized campaign initiatives for independent artists, as well as music blog Infectious Magazine. She is also the curator of several chapters of the music community Balanced Breakfast, which currently operates in 12 music cities including San Francisco, Los Angeles, Austin, Nashville, Toronto, and Portland. She loves hanging out with her dog, eating ice cream, and a good book. Read more at https://angelamastrogiacomo.wordpress.com/
Haulix is a company based out of Minnesota, USA. We have clients all over the world, but none of our core staffers have spent much, if any time abroad. We like to think we know a lot about the way the music business work, but truth be told all our knowledge is based on our experiences here in the United States. We wanted to expand our understanding of music as a global industry, so we turned to Finnish native Peppina to shed some light on her personal journey through music. You can read her response below.
Not familiar with Peppina? No worries. We’ve embedded here fantastic EP, Follow Your Gravity, at the end of this post. Consider this your last chance to hop on her bandwagon because we have a feeling 2016 is going to be a very big year for Peppina. Enjoy!
In Finland, just like in most countries, while the superstars in the world are superstars there as well, the charts are very much filled with Finnish artists – all of them singing in Finnish. That’s a big thing – there are barely any big Finnish artists in the pop field who perform in English, and it feels like some kind of a cultural thing where the idea of a Finnish artist singing in English seems weird.
I think it stems from the fact that i’s not that common in the Finnish culture to think or dream big, to believe in or seriously reach for international success – simply because it has happened so rarely in the past! I guess that’s why many choose to be a big fish in a small pond instead. To me that’s the biggest difference between the music scene in the two countries: In the US, you think big and reach high – and you have all the reason to do so since so many others have made it here already!
I think this cultural difference also translates to the musical side of it all. Pop music, for example, is produced big in the US. The singers bend high and lyrics are often anthemic, with subjects about things that are “larger than life.” While the top pop hits in Finland are of course also produced big and epic in their own way, they’re often not as ambitious as the ones in the States; the subjects are often negative and singers don’t show off with their vocal abilities as much. I couldn’t really say who would be “the Beyonce of Finland,” for example. I’m hoping to portray the best of both cultures through my music – and it’s been quite an experience being in the midst of each one at different times in my career.
Later this month I will turn 28 years old, but before that happens I will be purchasing a copy of One Direction’s new studio album, Made In The A.M. Before you ask, no, I don’t have a daughter or a little sister with a birthday on the horizon. I don’t even have a female cousin who still swears by 1D, or if I do she hasn’t made this information known to me. The reason I am going to be buying a copy of Made In The A.M. is because I, James Shotwell, am a One Direction fan myself. I’m also a straight male, and for whatever reason our culture still feels there is something weird about that.
Just for the record, I don’t call myself a Directioner. I didn’t even know that was a term until long after I knew of One Direction, and that was probably two years before I even took an interest in the group. Furthermore, I don’t think I fit the description. I’ve always believed a Directioner to be a fan who sees every show, buys merchandise other than albums, and those who spend an untold number of hours making signs/outfits for concerts even though their seats are hundreds of feet from the stage. I’m not that kind of fan. I enjoy the music, I write about the music whenever applicable, and I once attended a concert. Once. And it was free (for me).
My journey with One Direction started almost by accident. I had heard the group’s songs on the radio, and like anyone with taste I knew “Live While We’re Young” was the kind of tongue-in-cheek goodness no one could deny, but it wasn’t until I watched Morgan Spurlock’s documentary on the group, ‘One Direction: This Is Us,’ that I began to appreciate them the way I do now. Assuming that many of you reading this now are not One Direction fans yourself, I’ll tell you what is probably obvious and explain that the film follows the members of 1D on the road during the height of their celebrity. Viewers watch the group doing their best to stay level headed while being chased by throngs of fans in cities all over the world, and you get a real sense of their appreciation for the position they find themselves in. The members were chosen by chance during reality show auditions, and they appear to understand just how easily someone else could be in their shoes.
I didn’t walk away from This Is Us feeling like a newly devoted follower of 1D, but I did have a new appreciation for what they were doing in music. I remembered this when their next album was announced, and I decided to embrace that release (Midnight Memories) with an open mind. The first single won me over on its first play, and I decided there would be no harm in seeing what the rest of the album had to offer. To my surprise, which in hindsight is silly because the group’s massive level of fame should make this fact obvious, the material was good. In fact, some of it was undeniably great. I didn’t expect to keep singing the songs after my initial spin, but I did. A lot. I sang the bits I remembered so much I had to revisit just to learn more words so I wouldn’t drive myself crazy, and by that point I had purchased the entire album off iTunes. This meant there was now a record of me supporting One Direction, with money I hard worked to earn no less, and I had to admit to myself what I am telling you today, that I am indeed a fan of One Direction.
Fast-forward to the following summer and an online ticket retailer offers me two tickets to see One Direction at Gillette Stadium in exchange for some tweets about the experience. Being a broke music journalist with a thirst for unique experiences I almost broke my laptop trying to respond in a hurry, and for some reason still unknown to me my fiancé, Lisa, agreed to go along. We ended up sitting in the second row of the highest section of the stadium, nearly as far away from the stage as possible, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about in person, and I am here to report it became clear very quickly why people shell out $100+ per ticket to see 1D live. Their stage production filled the floor of the stadium, which was hosting 60,000 people, and nearly every song ended with a fireworks show that would put most small town’s Fourth Of July celebrations to shame. Add to this throngs of screaming fans who would dance and singalong with every song performed, as well as those played between sets, and you have the recipe for an unforgettable experience.
Before you ask, yes, I did see other guys in attendance. Most were accompanying their girlfriends/sisters/daughters/cousins, but every so often I spotted one or two who appeared to be in attendance because they chose to go. We didn’t speak, but we did share a typical silent head nod of acknowledgement toward one another. These moments were brief, but they did come coupled with a guarantee that if we were to ever cross paths again neither one could mention having seen the other at Gillette that night.
By the time One Direction announced Four my fandom was in full swing. I was eager for each single reveal, and I made it a point to pre-order the album early in order to have access to new tracks as the were released. I tweeted about my excitement, but my followers largely thought I was being sarcastic. It wasn’t until my praise-filled critique of the album debuted on Under The Gun Review that people started to take my mentions seriously, and the backlash from those who had long followed me for rock criticism was immediate. People told me I was being dumb, stupid, and that I had simply lost my way as a music journalist. Friends, and by that I mean people I know in real life, told me I had probably fallen victim to ‘Freaky Friday’ syndrome and traded souls with a tween without realizing it. Even my parents laughed when I told them I thought Four was a great record.
To their credit, the one group of people who seemed to get me at this point in life was Directioners. My review came out ahead of the album’s release, and it brought a ton of people to Under The Gun for the first time. Comments poured in from people all over the world that they too loved the record, and for the first time in over a year of enjoying One Direction I felt like maybe I could belong to their fandom as well. That is, until the general public got ahold of my thoughts. I thought in 2014 we were past generalizations like the idea only gay men can enjoy boy bands, but I unfortunately found the opposite to be true. Friends and strangers on the internet alike had disparaging remarks to make about the adult male who liked a group they considered to be manufactured to please young girls. Admitting their sugary, high-gloss sound won me over as well was viewed as a weakness, and to be honest I still struggle with understand why that is/was the case.
Made In The A.M., the fifth and potentially final studio album from One Direction, is set to be released this Friday, November 13. My review of the album was posted online earlier this week, and even though I have been carrying the One Direction torch with some semblance of pride since 2013 I have encountered the same inexplicable put downs and dismissals from my peers that I endured when I first mentioned my liking the group’s music over two years ago. For example, one publicist was quick to message me that his sister was sure to enjoy what I had to say about 1D. This is the kind of dismissive crap that reveals more about the person talking than the person they’re speaking to. For this publicists, who will remain nameless, liking One Direction was something reserved for girls. To him, they were not meant for boys, and therefor any boy who enjoyed it was somehow weird or flawed. It’s not unlike the demeanor of those who believe Barbie dolls are strictly for girls and G.I. Joe dolls are strictly for boys. They’re both dolls and they’re both completely acceptable for anyone to enjoy.
A social stigma is defined by Webster’s as the extreme disapproval of (or discontent with) a person or group on socially characteristic grounds that are perceived, and serve to distinguish them, from other members of a society. For many men and some women, being a guy who enjoys boy bands and/or even female pop artists like Katy Perry is considered a social stigma. They perceive these men as enjoying something that they believe was never intended to entertain them, and because they feel those men are in the wrong they also infer something must be wrong with them. Maybe they have a different sexual orientation, or maybe they are simply more feminine than your stereotypical alpha male, but whatever the case this perceived stigma leads many to put down those who are willing to admit they enjoy music from groups such as One Direction. I’ve experienced it all my life, from being the so-called ‘faggot’ in high school who enjoyed the same music as many of my female classmates, to being asked “where if your vagina?” when caught singing along with top 40 radio in a public place. I used to internalize these thoughts, and for a while I questioned if maybe something really were wrong with me, but as I grew older I learned you cannot let the outside world dictate what you enjoy. You have to be yourself, always.
Here’s the thing: If I had listened to every person who told me it was uncool or unacceptable to like the things I liked then I would never have the career in music I do today. The life I have today was built by staying true to myself, and though it was never easy to be the only guy in Southwest Michigan who knew every word to the Backstreet Boys’ catalog it was worth every insult endured to be where I am today. You might not want to work in music marketing and you might not even have ambitions of getting into the world of entertainment, but I can promise you wherever you go in life will be infinitely better if you learn to stay true to who you are no matter what. This may sound cheesy or old fashioned, but you are an incredibly unique being that will never be replicated and that is something you should take great pride in. Your personality is entirely your own, and you should embrace it. Friends, love, and success will all follow.
I don’t expect my journey to inspire others to begin taking One Direction more seriously, even though I would love it if that were to happen, but I do hope that you understand why I felt compelled to share my experiences as a male fan of music made by boy bands with the world. There is so much wonderful art and music to be experienced in this life, and the vast majority of it is not made with any one gender or sexual orientation in mind. It’s made because someone felt compelled to share their experiences with the rest of existence, and like all of us those creators are simply hoping to connect with someone who is willing to listen. One Direction may connect largely with females between the ages of 12 and 22, but that doesn’t mean those are the only people who can enjoy their music. Everyone is welcome to enjoy what they create, and if you approach their albums with an open mind I have a hard time believe you will walk away having had anything other than a good time. But even if you did, at least you would have given the group a fair chance, and that is more than most are ever willing to do (mostly because they are afraid of how other will react).
Don’t let anyone tell you what you can and cannot enjoy. Explore everything you can get your hands on, form your own opinions, and never be afraid to stand up for yourself. If outsiders don’t get it, that is on them and not you. Never forget that.
James Shotwell is the Marketing Coordinator for Haulix. He is also a professional entertainment critic, covering both film and music, as well as the co-founder of Antique Records. Feel free to tell him you love or hate the article above by connecting with him on Twitter. Bonus points if you introduce yourself by sharing your favorite Simpsons character.
It’s hard enough to get people to click play, or Like, or Favorite, or whatever else, but to get someone to pay money for any album in 2015? Who does that? Ask any number of mid-level bands who are still managing to sell 5,000+ in first week sales. Great numbers compared for 2003? Of course not, but I’ll take 1,250 in sales than 72,000 “Likes” any day.
“You can’t transform the record buying public into a million clones of your mum, sadly, but you can still apply this lesson: People value music that they are personally connected to and such music is scarce – therefore it is not worthless … People who have no reason at all to pay anything for 45 minutes of generic recorded music have a host of reasons to pay for 45 minutes of music that they know will explore the happy side of a depression that they recognise in themselves recorded by that nice girl who played in their local, chats to them about Geordie Shore on twitter, wrote that great blog post about economics and such; and who seems like a nice person who you could approach if your download didn’t work properly.”
Can you know all 1,000 people who bought your album in the first week? No, but it wouldn’t be a stretch to have a few hundred of those emails. Probably a few of your followers on Twitter bought your album, and some even came to your show.
There’s no shortage of jerk-asses that get press everyday for stupid shit. But there are probably so many albums out there that people are crying to in their bedrooms at night, or screaming along to in their cars at night. Bands that aren’t just “music,” but they mean the world to some folks. Strive to make that sort of music first and foremost. Count your successes in the number of people who thank you after the show, or shoot you an email, not in magazine covers or music blog mentions.
Maybe “nobody” buys music in 2015, but if only one person buys your album this month make them feel like they’re somebody.
Seth Werkheiser is the quiz master of metal trivia at Skulltoaster. He’s also the founder of some music sites you may have heard of, including Noise Creep (2009) + Buzzgrinder (2001). He’s anti-Facebook, anti-clickbait, and anti-growth hacking. You should most definitely follow him on Twitter. Yes, right now.
We received a lot of emails at Haulix from labels, publicists, and bands alike hoping to learn a few additional tricks or tips for better exposing whatever music they are working at that particular moment. We do our best to help everyone that comes to us, and we would hope many of you would respond in a similar manner, but recently we were contacted by someone seeking additional press who seemed to completely misunderstand what it is they needed in their career.
While coverage on blogs and in print is always helpful, it is not something every artist needs in order to be a success. In fact, history is littered with brilliant minds who lead long career in the arts without ever having a number one song or a feature in Billboard magazine. They probably wanted those things, of course, but in the long run they were not an essential part of a healthy career in entertainment.
So here’s what happened:
A call came in this week from an industry contact who shall remain nameless. During our chat, the person who called explained how they were running a label where almost every cost was covered by two very successful electronic artists. These artists have made literally millions of dollars from licensing and placements in everything from movies, to TV shows, advertisements, and even video games. They have been making money this way for years, all while continuing to release new music, but for one reason or another their label had struggled to garner much, if any, traction in the world of music journalism. Their artists were labeled as too electronic for rock blogs, but too rock driven for electronic blog, which left them feeling as if there were no place for them in the modern music business.
While we sympathized with the label owner and how he felt his artists were basically successful outcasts, we also felt that somewhere along the line the label owner had forgotten the point of press. Getting mentions on blogs and in magazines is something done by artists and their representation in order to generate more excitement for an upcoming release. While we could debate all day over the effectiveness of mentions on top music blogs as it relates to sales, the fact of the matter is that in this unique case the artists going uncovered by most members of the music journalism community had long proven their ability to financially succeed in the industry. They don’t need music blogs, or even music magazine to care about their efforts because clearly there is already a well-established demand for new content from them by people who have the power to make sure the artists in question can pay their bills (as well as the bills of their label).
If you or someone your represent are working full time on creating art, and by that I mean living a life that is not dependent on a second source of income, we urge you to not allow yourself to be frustrated if members of the journalism community do not take notice of those efforts. Just because someone with a blog or byline does not see the talent you or your artist possesses does not mean everyone else who has supported that act up to this point is somehow wrong or misguided. Headlines will come in time, but if you’re already paying your bills with music then you’ve already won the game of existing in this industry. You’ve reached a point of success most will never know, and you cannot allow the fact some teens and/or twenty-somethings don’t ‘get it’ hold you back. You don’t need them.
The following post is not about growing up in the music industry, but rather growing up in general. James Shotwell, editor of the Haulix blog, shares his recent battle with grief and discussed the various ways he feels that avoiding the truth of a situation has stunted his personal and professional development over the last year. We’re sharing it here because we feel it’s important for young professionals to understand how handling their personal affairs directly relates to their ability to do their job as professionals, and we hope it makes a difference.
For the past year I feel as if I have been traveling through the same small town again and again hoping to find a new street to stroll. That town’s name is grief, and it wasn’t until about 48 weeks into what I imagine will be at least a 52 week sentence that I realized this was so.
My best friend died. I’ve said and written this sentence more times than I can count over the past year, and in the process I’ve told myself it was true a little more with each use. I knew a part of me knew it was true from the moment my phone rang as I was just being seated for a film screening for a 2014 title whose name I’ve long forgotten. I remember collapsing in the hallway of the same movie theater I still frequent 2-3 times any given week, weeping, feeling as if my spirit had momentarily been sucked from my very being. I have glimpses of calling my mother and my fiancé, Lisa, telling them each the truth while gasping through sobs and wiping snot on a bench outside a screening for Gone Girl that was seeing a heavy amount of foot traffic. I couldn’t tell you how I got outside, but logic says I walked, and then my fiancé arrived to take me home. My best friend wasn’t dead just yet, but he was dying, and he would be gone before I could arrive no matter the means I took. I would have given everything in my bank account to pay for a flight, and I know my family would have chipped in if they thought it could help. We couldn’t make it. All we could do was wait, several hours, until confirmation finally came.
You might not believe this, but I actually found out about Justin’s death from Facebook. I was visiting his page while saying prayers to God, George Carlin, and every fallen family member I thought might be able to help when I saw someone post a comment reading “RIP” on his page. I knew things were far too dire for this to be a sick prank, and moments later my phone rang. It was Justin’s sister, and she didn’t really say anything at all. I think I asked if something had happened, and all I heard in response was a mumble buried in an urgent fight against oncoming tears. I apologized, as we all do in moments of loss, and after a few shared tears we hung up the phone. Lisa was coming up the hall from the kitchen as I hung up, and I jumped to greet her, sharing the news while collapsing in her arms. She had grown extremely close to Justin over the years as well, but in that moment she knew she had to be the strong one for both of us. I don’t know that I have ever thanked her for that.
The last time I saw Justin was in Cleveland over the summer. He had just crossed the three month mark on his latest hospital stay and I made good on a longstanding promise to come visit him. Having a job that allows me to work from home has its perks, and in this case I was able to travel during the week and put in hours while Justin underwent daily dialysis (often followed by naps, which allotted for even more work time). He never wanted to talk about his illness, and he would do his best to silence any doctors or nurses who tried to speak too directly about any specific treatments. Though he was sick for several years he always made it a point to keep details about his sickness at arm’s length from myself and our closest friends. It was his way of protecting us, but as you can imagine it never sat well with anyone.
During our time together on this trip we laughed over memories from our time in college, before Justing was sick. We talked about the girls we met and the adventures we shared. The time we got our car stuck in the woods on Justin’s 21st birthday and he missed the opportunity to have a proper night of drinking, and the time we drove to Ann Arbor for what turned out to be a sold out concert and drove three hours straight back to campus. We also played a lot of X-Box, which was the number one distraction Justin had from his immediate surroundings. He kicked my ass. It was a lot like being back in the dorm, but this time one of us was very, very ill.
At night, Justin and I would head to the rooftop of the Hospital and look at the city of Cleveland. Justin hated the view, and having seen a fair share of cities myself I wasn’t fond of it either, but it was what we had and we passed time poking fun at the city’s excitement over the return of Lebron James. We were even joined by a friend, Jacob, and together we sang Bob Seger’s “Night Moves” while the Tigers lit off Fireworks. Writing it now makes everything seem kind of like a schmaltzy climax to a John Greene novel, I know, but we wouldn’t realize the importance of those moments until many months later.
The only time we spoke about Justin’s sickness was when he made a simple request, and that was that I contact all our friends if he lost his battle. And trust me, it was a battle.
So after I collapsed into Lisa’s arms in that hallway, and after we eventually made it to our bed for several minutes of sobs, I remembered the request of my best friend. I started with our closest friends, and every single one was its own Earth-shattering moment. It was something I will never forget, and it’s something that I don’t that I will really discuss outside of this post. The calls with our closest friends were somehow the easiest, as the anticipation for Justin’s passing had already made its way through our immediate circle. Justin and I also shared friends whom he spoke to far more frequently than myself that he also requested I call at the same time, and those were the hardest moments of all. Speaking to people I hadn’t had a deep conversation with in months, if not over year, to say our mutual friend had just died was an impossible task that felt increasingly difficult with each number I dialed. It was necessary though, and I know Justin asked me to do that because he knew it would force me to deal with the reality of his passing far quicker than I was likely to on my own. He was always looking out for me like that, but as you might guess from the beginning of this story I somehow found a way to avoid truly facing those facts until the last few weeks.
My close friend Ben came to visit in September, just before Justin’s birthday, and we both remarked on how hard it was to come to terms with the fact he had indeed passed. When he left, I was fine for a week or so, but I couldn’t shake the feeling something was gnawing at me from the inside. For days I felt like my heart was sitting uncomfortably in my chest, and I was checking my pulse regularly with the idea I was perhaps having a very small scale panic attack. I eventually broke down at 3AM one morning, again alerting Lisa, and I confessed to her the regrets I had been carrying since the moment I knew of Justin’s death. The conversations we shared that I didn’t know how to guide, or the things left unsaid. I confessed how facing the fact my best friend, who was younger than me by nearly two years, could die meant facing the fact I was going to die all over again absolutely freaks me out to no end. I think we all forget that essentially everyone fears death on some level, at least temporarily, and when we feel like we’re the only ones who understand the concept of no longer being among the living it gives us a sensation our grandparents might describe as ‘heebie jeebies.’ That has been true for everyone I’ve ever known, every writer I’ve ever admired, and arguably anyone intelligent enough to grasp basic concepts of existence.
Please understand. I poured all of this out at 3AM to a woman who, up until the point I shook her while fighting back a massive breakdown, was sound asleep following a long day trip from Boston to New Jersey and back again. This woman is a saint, and she deserves a puppy (too bad our apartment is too small for one).
Getting over the Anger stage of grief by diving face first into the Bargaining phase, I spent the following days looking for signs in anything and everything to let me know I wasn’t losing my mind. Justin was on my mind constantly, as were my own battles with mortality, and I was looking for any excuse to avoid the fact those thoughts weren’t going away. No matter how hard I tried however, I could not work. I could not create. My mind was stuck, and I proceeded to become even more lost in my own thoughts and sadness. I could recognize the pain in my chest, but I couldn’t accept it. To be honest, I still struggle to. I feel it though, and I know it’s there. I know my body is telling me to deal with the loss of Justin and move on with my life, and I am trying to listen.
Today I was speaking at a college in rural Pennsylvania, and when I finally finished for the day I took some time to drive around and unwind. I had read about how the town was once eyed by gas companies, who worked to establish 3 major hotels in the sleepy hillside town of under 10k only to later abandon their plans decades ahead of schedule. I had wondered if there were any other repercussions from the move, and I think I found my answer in the numerous unmarked dead end streets I encountered. These weren’t road in the middle of the town, obviously, but rather those left on the outskirts as if to point towards opportunities that were never developed. After three or four of these intersections I stopped and rolled down the windows to let the silence of the moment sweep over me. I don’t know if it was the Pennsylvania air or the fact I am mentally exhausted from a day filled with conversations, but in that moment I realized how much my past year resembled this tiny town. I had underdeveloped opportunities everywhere, dragging down myself and others, all because I had been running from the fact that my best friend died. The November day that brought the worst phone calls I have ever received is fast-approaching, and I didn’t even take time to consider that I hadn’t properly dealt with Justin’s death until somewhere around October 5 of this year.
The strange part is, having realized what it is that I’ve been struggling with for so long I’ve since begun to feel like I am growing in leaps and bounds. I feel as if I am seeing the world through fresh eyes, and I am beginning to notice other things about myself that I perhaps have been fighting as well. Thoughts about what I really want out of life, and what I plan to do to reach that point, if I am able to at all. I like to think of it as finally seeing the ‘big picture’ instead of being obsessed with the details, and I’ve gotta say that it seems quite beautiful. I wish Justin were here to see it, but I know I will carry a piece of him with me wherever I go. He’ll be the person I dedicate my first book to, and the first name on the acceptance speech I keep just in case I ever do something that allows me to make one of those corny speeches. I’ll toast his life with our friends, and we’ll share stories about him until our time comes.
At the end of his posthumous autobiography, George Carlin is discussing his plans for a Broadway play about his own life when he says that reunion is the one thing we all seek in our lives, and I realize every day how true that is. Reunion with the past and with those that have passed, to some degree, is something each of us seeks in our own way. Call it a religion, call it a belief, call it whatever you need to feel complete. There must be something to that. It’s rare that every being in a species longs for the same high concept thing, at least as far as we know, so it must all mean something. How can it not? If reunion is what we all seek there must be something to it, and I’m sure when we get there it will be great. The wait will be hell, but it will be worth it.
James Shotwell is the Marketing Coordinator for Haulix. He is also a professional entertainment critic, covering both film and music, as well as the co-founder of Antique Records. Feel free to tell him you love or hate the article above by connecting with him on Twitter. Bonus points if you introduce yourself by sharing your favorite Simpsons character.
Hey there, everyone. We are thrilled to learn you chose to spend a few minutes of your day browsing our blog. The post you’re about to enjoy was written by our friend Andrew Jones, founder of The Checkered Owl, and it’s something both artists and writers alike can learn from.
This site exists to promote the future of the entertainment industry, and to do that we need input from people like you and your entertainment-loving friends. If you have any questions about the content in this article, or if you have an artist you would like to see featured on this blog, please contact james@haulix.com. We can also be found onTwitter and Facebook.
The music industry, like much of our society, can become obsessed with what is new: The new better way to sell music, the new way to connect with fans, the new DAW to record your new album. Many blogs are written, podcasts recorded and conferences held about the newest and most promising options; and this, in large part, is good. In fact you will notice if you look back at the Checkered Owl blog we write often about new tech and strategies. But if you pay attention to culture and society, you will notice a shift…
People are beginning to embrace old. Vinyl records, knitting, film cameras, pot lucks, gardening, simpler vacations, local foods, house concerts, they are all making a resurgence. But why?
I believe, in many ways people are wanting to return to something simpler. To personal connections, to a time with a moral compass, when people knew what was expected of them. We look back to our grandparents and great-grandparents and realize maybe with all our steps forward, we may have left somethings behind.
But what does this have to do with your music? Am I suggesting that you return to recording mono on a 4-track recorder? Probably not, however I think there are many lessons from the past young musicians could learn from, certain things no Facebook analytics can teach you.
Look back. Read about how musicians in the 50’s cut and sold records on the cheap before there was a large established industry. Learn about how labels like Motown and Chess built a community. Understand why U2 intentionally toured in too small of venues for many of their early US tours. Try to get your mind around the psychology of the KISS army. Study why Elvis Presley, Buddy Holly, Carl Perkins & Johnny Cash would all head out on tours together instead of going it alone. Find out WHY Van Halen’s rider famously asked for all the brown M&Ms to be removed.
Pay attention to new ideas and tech, you need to. But if you are really interested in building a great career, look at those who have already done it…you just might learn something.
This post was written by Andrew Jones, editor of Checkered Owl. It originally ran on his blog, but we loved it so much we felt it deserved to shared once more on ours. If you like his work and want to read more of his writing, or if you want to be super cool and offer him full time industry employment, reach out and connect with him on Twitter.
Hey there, everyone! We like to pride ourselves on creating some of the best content for aspiring musicians and industry professionals online, but truth be told there are several other outlets providing equally great content. We tend to promote a lot of their stuff on our social networks, but every so often a post comes up we simply need to poach and share right here. Such is the case with this feature, which was written by Bobby Borg, Author of Music Marketing For The DIY Musician.
This blog exists to promote the future of the music industry, and to do that we need input from people like you and your music-loving friends. If you have any questions about the content in this article, or if you have an artist you would like to see featured on this blog, please contact james@haulix.com and share your thoughts. We can also be found on Twitter and Facebook.
A marketing plan (or as I sometimes call it, aMarketing Plan of Attack™) is a written document that outlines your band’s goals and the strategies you intend to use to achieve these goals. This can be helpful in keeping all members of a band on track, communicating to a manager what you’d like to achieve, and even convincing investors that you have a viable business idea.
While marketing plans can come in all shapes, sizes and lengths, what follows is the ordering and elements commonly used:
1. Front Cover: A front cover with your photograph or logo, artist name, and website URL. This can be created easily using a word processing program like Microsoft Office Word.
2. Executive Summary: A one-page overview of your entire marketing plan including a brief history about your band and its successes, your goals, and the strategies you intend to execute to achieve your goals. This is intended to hook the reader into the main body of your plan.
3. Table of Contents (TOC): A TOC outlining each section of the plan with page numbers.
4. Vision: Your company’s vision, describing where you want to be in seven to ten years. This might include the level of success you’d like to achieve, the respect you’d like to earn in the industry, and the brand image you’d like to establish in the minds of your fans.
5. SWOT Analysis: An internal and external examination of your company’s strengths, weaknesses, opportunities, and threats. Ultimately, this section justifies your business idea by showing that it fits a specific and profitable niche in the marketplace, and that you have the internal strengths (skills, finances, team members) to successfully pursue this opportunity.
6. Customer Analysis: A profile of your “most likely fan” including their age, income level, interests, opinions, and more. Additionally, this section shows how specifically you are going to use this information about your fans to help you better reach and communicate with them.
7. Competitor Analysis: A thorough analysis of your competitors’ recordings, stage performances, merchandising, and overall brand. Most importantly, this section shows what you can learn from your competitors’ strengths (i.e., what you can emulate) as well as how you can capitalize on their weaknesses (i.e., how you plan to differentiate your band and stand out from the pack).
8. Testing & Feedback: Results from surveys, questionnaires, and interviews you’ve conducted on your target audience. This part of your plan is especially important to investors who need verifiable proof that your music (or other business idea) is a viable and profitable one.
9. Goals: Specific objectives based primarily on the sales you hope to make—or the fans you hope to attract—in the next year. A band might include the number of records it hopes to sell (or streams it hopes to get), the average number of people it would like to attract to its shows, and the total number of names/fans it would like to add to its database within the next year.
10. Strategies: Methods for how you’ll achieve your goals including branding, product development, pricing, distribution, promotion, and marketing analytics. A band might include logo ideas and artwork, whether to produce flash drives or CDs, how much it intends to charge for its music (if anything), who will distribute the music online and offline, whether it plans to “outsource” a publicist or do it all in-house, and how it will measure the success of its marketing.
11. Costs: A detailed budget delineating expenses involved in executing your strategies. Recording, mixing, mastering, manufacturing, building and hosting a website, creating an electronic press kit, and merchandising expenses can all be included here.
12. Time Line: A time line to help organize the execution of your plan. Tasks can be organized quarterly (in three month blocks), weekly, daily, and even hourly if you’d like. The more precise you are about when tasks must be completed, the more likely you’ll reach your goals on time, on budget, and on quality. And finally…
13. Appendix: An appendix containing any detailed charts, graphs, club listings, radio stations, or research findings you’d like to include. (This is optional.)
By the way, I call it a Marketing Plan of Attack ™ because when it is handled with extreme detail and care, your plan should be analogous to a battle plan—something on which you’d be willing to bet your entire life and the lives of others on your team. It’s that important!
No matter if you’re an artist recording an album to release it to fans, or a composer building a studio to delivery tracks to ad agencies, a Marketing Plan of Attack ™ can get your career on track, keep your band organized, and entice investors too. So why not put your very own marketing plan together today?
